


There Was Only One Bed

by grasonas



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, M/M, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 09:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20255800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grasonas/pseuds/grasonas
Summary: After 2 strangers missed a flight, they were asked to share a hotel room with one bed.A Malex AU, based on a recent CNN headline.





	There Was Only One Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsidiousIntent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/gifts).

> This is my gift for [InsidiousIntent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent), written for the _Cosmic Love Exchange 2019_ hosted by goodvibesinroswell on Tumblr.
> 
> My dearest Inigo,
> 
> when you reblogged the [screenshot of a recent CNN headline](https://insidious-intent.tumblr.com/post/186592612311) on the day you were assigned to me as my Cosmic Love Buddy, I squealed in delight. First and foremost because I was allowed to create something for _you_, but also because you delivered the perfect prompt right to my doorstep. 
> 
> In your tags, you said: _#omg #there was only one bed #this is my fave trope_
> 
> And how could I not take that prompt and turn it into a Malex AU for you?
> 
> I hope you like your gift, bb. ♥

“Professor Guerin, Sir, I’m very sorry, but the last flight back to Albuquerque has departed half an hour ago, there won’t be another flight until tomorrow around noon.” 

Michael nearly drops his head on the desk and sighs. He’s tired and hungry and wants nothing more than a warm meal and a bed. 

“Okay, is there a hotel where I can stay for the night?” 

“There’s a hotel close to the airport. I’ll see what I can do, but due to delays and some cancelled flights, we had to organize overnight stays for several passengers. Please take a seat, Professor, I’ll let you know when I have more details.” 

Michael runs a hand through his hair, messing up his mop of curls further. 

“Thanks, Susan. I’ll sit down over there and wait.” 

Michael gestures at the seating area near the check-in desk, grabs the handle of his trolley and walks over. Only one other passenger is sitting there, a black backpack placed between his feet. The man looks equally tired and disheveled as Michael feels, the strands of his dark hair sticking up every which way, like he’s run his fingers through his hair repeatedly. There's a dried coffee stain prominent on his vanilla-colored hoodie, as if he's spilled the contents of an entire cup all over himself. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and brown boots, and a crutch is leaning against the empty seat to his right. 

Michael slowly approaches the man. 

“Uhm, hi. Are you also here to wait for hotel information?” 

The stranger looks up and Michael feels a pang of _something_ deep down. The man could easily be a model and grace the cover of GQ magazine, he’s _that_ level of gorgeous. When the stranger smiles at him, Michael’s stomach drops even further. He knows he’s in trouble the second he locks eyes with the man. 

“Yeah, apparently there are no flights back to Albuquerque until tomorrow. I’m just so lucky.” 

The stranger looks down at himself to inspect the coffee stain. Then he looks back up at Michael, rubs at his eyes and dishevels his hair even further by running his hands through them. He's clearly tired and his clothes are rumpled, but he still looks absolutely stunning. 

“Long day?” Michael asks. 

The stranger scoffs. 

“The longest day of my life. And I’ve served three tours.” 

“Thank you for your service, Private.” 

Michael bites his lip when he realizes that what he said might offend the veteran. He’s also sure that his remark came out a lot more flirty than intended, curse his tired brain. When the stranger laughs, he’s relieved. 

“I’m Air Force actually, that would make me an Airman. And it’s Captain, if you don’t mind.” 

“Captain, of course. Please forgive my ignorance, I’m not overly familiar with military ranks and stuff. So, you’re Top Gun, that sounds cool.” 

The man laughs again, and Michael can’t take his eyes off of him. 

“That’s usually the assumption. And while I know my way around military airplanes, I’m more of a desk criminal these days. I’m no longer fit for combat duty.” 

He bends down and knocks against his right lower leg. It makes a sound as if the man’s knocked on metal and the crutch makes a lot more sense all of a sudden. Michael tries his best not to blush, even though he’s mortified and worried that he may not only have offended a veteran, but a _disabled_ veteran. He likes the man, why won't his brain let him hold a normal conversation without blurting out inappropriate remarks? When the man smiles at him, Michael feels a little less like an ass. 

“Captain...?” 

“Manes, Alex Manes. Please, call me Alex.” 

Michael grabs the outstretched hand of Captain Alex Manes and shakes it. 

“Guerin, Michael. Well, Professor Guerin actually. But please, call me Michael.” 

They smile at each other and there’s a spark. A spark of recognition, of longing, of _be_longing even, Michael almost gasps. Then he sees that Alex’s pupils are blown wide, like he can feel it too. Michael swallows around an invisible lump in his throat, his and Alex’s hands still clasping at each other. 

He lets go of Alex’s hand reluctantly, instantly missing the warmth and comforting firmness of it. 

Michael takes a seat beside Alex. 

“So, _Professor_ Guerin. What are you teaching?” 

Michael smiles. 

“Quantum mechanics and astrophysics.” 

“Nice! So, if my career makes me Maverick, what does that make you? Bruce Banner?” 

Michael laughs. 

“I don’t have the bulk to pull off Bruce, at least not when he’s hulked out. I’m probably more like Mork.” 

“Meaning you're a little awkward, a little inappropriate, yet very funny, _and_ telekinetic?” 

Alex raises a questioning brow at Michael. 

Michael’s stomach twists. If only the gorgeous man across from him knew that he is indeed telekinetic. And an alien. Just like Mork. Oddly enough Michael doesn’t want to lie. He winks at Alex. 

“Well, I can’t spill all my secrets on our first date, Captain.” 

Alex’s brow climbs impossibly higher on his forehead. 

“I wasn’t aware that this is a date, Professor.” 

Michael blushes and drops his head into his open hands. 

“I’m sorry, my brain-to-mouth filter seems to be defective when I’m tired.” 

“Oh, don’t apologize, we can make it a date if you want. Let's see, I have half a bottle of water and a dry cheese sandwich. And I’ve downloaded season three of _Stranger Things_ to my phone. You up for Netflix and Chill?” 

Michael snorts. 

“You do know what the _chill_ actually means, right?” 

Alex smirks. 

“Well, I can’t spill all _my_ secrets on our first date either.” 

Michael laughs out loud at this. Then he opens the front compartment of his trolley and rummages around in it. 

“Oh, I like you, Captain. I like you a lot. Let’s see. I have a bottle of lukewarm ice tea, an apple and a bag of nuts. I haven’t had a chance to watch season three of Stranger Things yet, so I’m up for it. After dinner?” 

They look at each other and grin so hard, it almost hurts. 

They eat half a sandwich and a handful of nuts each, then they take turns taking bites from the apple while handing the water bottle back and forth. Neither of them's in the mood for lukewarm ice tea and Michael puts it back into his trolley.

They skip the _chill_ part of their ‘date’ and keep a conversation going instead, sharing random facts about themselves, talking about their jobs, and for all that Michael understands, they are _flirting_ as if they were on a real date. He’s never felt so at ease with another person, so relaxed and calm. At the same time, he’s on edge, feeling a _pull_ towards Alex, an indescribable urge to plaster himself all over the man. 

Unconsciously, he’s been edging closer throughout their conversation, reducing the distance between himself and Alex inch by inch. 

When he’s close enough to catch a whiff of Alex’s cologne, he almost moans, it smells so good. He must be so tired that he feels like he can barely control himself anymore, wanting nothing more than to drop his head on Alex’s shoulder and snuggle up to him. He wants to bury his nose in the crook of Alex's neck and stay there forever, surrounded and soothed by Alex's steady pulse and irresistible scent. 

Alex seems oblivious to Michael’s inner turmoil, animatedly telling an anecdote from a time at base camp when he was just 18 years old. Michael tries his best to follow the story, but all he can focus on is the way Alex’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his elegant hands gesticulate (Alex is wearing a silver ring on his right middle finger, whenever he gestures, it catches the light from the ceiling lights and it’s _ mesmerizing_). 

Alex is also wearing an earring - a simple silver hoop – in his left ear. Michael wants to lean over and catch it between his lips. His cock twitches at the idea. 

When a young man heads over from the service desk, Michael tries to focus on what he has to say. 

“Captain Manes, Professor Guerin?” 

“That would be us,” Alex replies and gestures between them. 

“My name is Thomas and I’d like to apologize that it took so long. Susan’s told me that you were hoping we could book accommodation at the airport hotel for you, and I’m happy to inform you, that we were able to secure a room for you. There’s a taxi waiting outside in front of the terminal, it will bring you right over.” 

Alex and Michael look at each other in relief. As entertaining as their conversation’s been, they are both tired. Michael gets up first and nods at Thomas. 

“Thanks for your help, Thomas, we really appreciate it.” 

He turns around to Alex and gestures at his backpack. 

“Do you have any more luggage?” 

Alex shakes his head. 

“Only this one.” 

“Good, let’s head over to our carriage then, my Lord.” 

He bows down in a mock curtsy, offering Alex his hand in the process. Alex blinks for a second, then laughs and grabs the offered hand and slowly pulls himself into a standing position. 

“Thanks, Professor, you are too kind.” 

Thomas clears his throat. 

“Goodnight, gentlemen. Please be back at the airport around ten tomorrow morning.” 

Alex and Michael bid their goodbyes to the man, grab their luggage and Alex also his crutch, then they walk over to the exit. Alex leans on his crutch heavily, like he's tired and in pain. Michael closes his eyes for a moment and wishes he had Max’s healing abilities. His telekinesis is fun and often helpful, but right now he’d rather be able to take away Alex's pain. 

When they exit the terminal, their taxi driver is waiting for them. They put their luggage in the trunk and without being prompted, Michael takes Alex’s crutch once Alex sits in the passenger seat. Alex smiles at him warmly. 

“Thank you, Professor.” 

“My pleasure, Captain.” 

He places the crutch in the trunk and takes a seat behind Alex. The drive over to the hotel is short, yet they tip the taxi driver generously. Michael gets their belongings out of the trunk and they enter the hotel. 

A young woman behind the reception desk smiles at them. 

“Good evening, gentlemen, my name’s Natalie, and you must be Professor Manes and Captain Guerin?” 

“It’s the other way around, but yes, this is Captain Manes, and I’m Professor Guerin.” 

The woman blushes. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I got things mixed up.” 

Michael smiles at her. 

“No problem. If you could please just lead us to our rooms, we’re both tired and would like to get some sleep.” 

Natalie nods and walks around the desk. 

“My pleasure, gentlemen, please follow me.” 

By unspoken agreement, Michael takes Alex’s backpack and hoists it over one shoulder, then grabs the handle of his trolley. 

“After you, Captain.” 

Alex smiles at him thankfully and follows the woman to an elevator with slow, measured steps, leaning on his crutch. When the doors open, they all step inside and Natalie pushes the button for the third floor. When they arrive, the doors open and they step into a hallway. Natalie turns left and they follow her down a corridor until she stops in front of a door with the number 345. 

She turns to them. 

“You are lucky, we are fully booked and this is our last free room.” 

Alex and Michael look at each other, then they look at her. 

“Uhm, there must be a mistake. We are not together. I mean, we don’t travel together. I mean, we didn’t even _know_ each other until an hour ago. We need a second room.” 

Michael looks at her with wide eyes. She shakes her head. 

“I’m so sorry, gentlemen, but there are no other free rooms. This is the last one.” 

She opens the door with a keycard and turns the lights on. 

They step into the room behind her. It’s a small room. A wardrobe and small desk with a flatscreen TV mounted on the wall above to the left, a bathroom and a bed to the right. _One_ bed. It’s a king size but, but still, just _one_ bed. Michael sighs.

Natalie looks flustered. 

“I’m terribly sorry, I wish I could offer you something else, but this is all we have.” 

Alex and Michael look at each other for a moment, searching for _something_ in each other’s eyes. When they both seem to find what they were looking for in the other man's eyes, they nod at each other with a tilt of their heads and turn back to Natalie. It’s Alex who speaks for them. 

“It’s okay, Natalie. We’ll take the room. It’s only one night, a couple of hours in fact. I’m sure we’ll manage.” 

Michael chimes in. 

“Natalie, would you have another blanket, though? More towels would also be great. And is there a vending machine somewhere. And ice?” 

Natalie nods. 

“Yes, of course, Sir. I can bring the extra blanket and towels to you. The vending and ice machines are at the other end of the corridor.” 

“You know what? Why don’t I come with you and spare you the way back up here? It'd give Captain Manes some space and time to get ready for bed.” 

Alex smiles at Michael, a huge THANKS written across his face. 

The young woman nods. 

“Of course, Sir, please follow me. Good night, Captain Manes.” 

“Good night, Natalie. And thank you, Michael.” 

Michael grabs Alex’s shoulder and squeezes it for a moment. 

“It’s okay. I’ll be back in about 15 minutes. Hope you won’t be asleep by then, Captain.” 

Alex winks at Michael, then his voice drops an octave. 

“I’ll eagerly await your return, Professor.” 

Liquid hot desire runs down Michael’s spine. He licks his lips and when Alex smirks, he knows that Alex has noticed his reaction. He shakes his head and turns to leave the room. 

“I’ll be back in a few.” 

Michael follows Natalie out into the corridor where she hands him the keycard to the room. He closes the door behind him. 

When he returns to the room about 20 minutes later, he’s carrying an extra blanket, towels and a cushion under his left arm, he's also holding two water bottles in his left hand. In his other hand he carries an insulated bucket with a lid. It's filled with ice. He’s holding the keycard between his fingers and hopes that he won’t drop everything in his attempt to open the door. 

He holds the card close to the magnetic field and enters the room with all items still in his hands. 

Alex is already in bed, occupying the right side. His head is propped up on a cushion and he’s holding a tablet in his left hand. He looks up at Michael and Michael nearly drops everything there and then, because Alex is wearing _glasses_ and _no shirt_. 

Michael can't help himself.

“Holy shit, did GQ call? I’m sure they want their cover model back.” 

Alex laughs and a questioning eyebrow becomes visible above the thick rim of his black framed glasses. 

“Didn't take you for someone who's reading GQ, Professor.” 

Michael doesn’t know how to react to that. To any of it. Alex looks insanely attractive, and he keeps calling Michael _Professor_, which does _things_ to Michael. He’s definitely too tired to handle the situation with dignity, so he quickly places the water bottles and the ice bucket on the desk, takes the towels in his now empty right hand and drops the blanket and cushion in a pile on the left side of the bed. 

“I... I’ll better go and take a shower. A cold one. Jesus Fucking Christ.” 

He all but flees into the bathroom and only dares to breathe, when the door is closed behind him. Then he remembers the ice bucket and why he brought it. _Shit_! He looks at himself in the mirror and moans. He looks like a mad man, his curls a messy halo around his head, his pupils blown impossibly wide. He turns on the cold water, washes his hands and splashes some water on his face. Then he grabs a towel and rubs at his face. He takes a deep steadying breath, then takes a clean towel, opens the door behind him and returns to the bed room. 

Alex looks up at him, questioningly. Michael grabs the ice bucket and pulls a ziploc bag out of the pocket of his dress pants. He holds both items up. 

“Uhm, I’m not sure if this is ok, but I noticed that you were in pain earlier, and I thought that maybe you’d like to put ice on your leg?” 

He feels terribly shy all of a sudden, his face probably tomato red from blushing so hard. He closes his eyes, the ice bucket and ziploc still clutched in his outstretched hands. What if Alex finally takes offense at something he says? What if he gets angry? Michael tries not to panic but breathing seems impossibly hard all of a sudden. 

“Michael, please look at me.” 

Alex’s voice is quiet and soft. Michael blinks his eyes open. 

Alex looks at him with kind eyes, puts his tablet away and shuffles over further into the middle of the bed. Then he pats the empty space beside him. When Michael steps closer, he notices the prosthetic leg leaning against the nightstand. He quickly averts his gaze and looks at Alex instead, then he sits down on the bed. 

“You are right, I’m in pain, have been all afternoon. You noticed and now you’re bringing me ice. It's remarkable, really. I’ve... I’ve never met someone quite like you. You're one of a kind, Michael Guerin.” 

Alex’s voice sounds amused, a smile plays on his lips. Michael blinks at Alex’s words, and once again, he can’t help himself, he doesn’t want to lie. 

“Well, technically there are at least two others of my kind.” 

Alex tilts his head in surprise. 

“Are you telling me you’re a _triplet_, Professor?” 

Michael smiles and winks at Alex. 

“I guess you could say that, yes.” 

“Do the other two look as gorgeous as you?” 

Michael snorts. 

“Oh, they wish. But no, we’re not identical triplets, maybe not even biological triplets. I.. It’s a longer story. Too long and complicated to tell tonight.” 

Alex smiles at Michael seductively, his voice smooth and inviting when he speaks. 

“Good thing that I’m not in the mood for a bedtime story then. I have something more _chill_ in mind, if you’re up for it?” 

Alex slowly takes the ice bucket and the ziploc bag from Michael's hands and places them on the nightstand. Then he takes Michael’s head between his hands and pulls him closer in slow increments, giving Michael plenty of time and opportunity to indicate that he's not up for _chill_. But Michael doesn't want an out, he wants the opposite. He twists around further to face Alex properly. Alex slides his hands into Michael's curls and pulls him in until their lips meet in a kiss. 

It’s tender at first, just a press of lips. Then Michael opens his mouth, then Alex does too, and then they’re not coming up for air for a long, long time, their tongues and lips too eager to explore and conquer. Michael never makes it back into the bathroom for a cold shower...

They're up for hours and when they finally fall asleep in the wee hours of the next morning, utterly sated and wrapped around each other, they sleep so deep, they miss the flight to Albuquerque at noon. 

When they wake up, they extend their stay in room 345 for another night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr (gra-sonas << mind the hyphen!) or Twitter (@grasonas).


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